


Second to None

by Winterotter



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22484101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterotter/pseuds/Winterotter
Summary: In between wrangling politicians and building a new interplanetary government — Poe and Finn cobble together the start of a relationship.
Relationships: Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Poe Dameron & Finn & Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 24
Kudos: 195





	Second to None

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers are of the vague kind, just general references to ROS (the good guys won, etc. etc.)

* * *

“Admiring the view?”

From his spot leaning against the rail, Finn watched the waterfall. The morning sunlight bounced off the glass buildings on either side, the light reflecting off the water until it was hard to see from certain angles. "Never seen anything like it,” Finn said, “Is this what the phrase 'blinding beauty' is talking about?"

“Blinding is the word for it,” Poe observed, “this planet is famous for their waterfalls, as they developed they made a point to incorporate them into the architecture rather than working around them or worse.”

Finn offered him a strained smile. “I’m surprised more people aren’t out here, a view like this shouldn’t go to waste.”

Poe surveyed the deserted deck around them. “Breakfast is being served inside. The rest must have decided food was the priority.”

“I’m surprised you’re not in there with them. You’ve been in high demand with all the delegates. Even Rey has managed to get away for a break or two.”

Poe was showered and dressed in what passed for a dress uniform, but his eyes were bloodshot and the lines around his mouth were more pronounced than they had been a day ago. Finn wondered if he’d been sleeping, or if he’d been staying up wining and dining every night. “I don’t think I could keep anything down, I’ll eat later. Besides I wanted to check-in. How are you doing?”

“Me? I’m fine, Poe. I hate to break it to you, but you and Rey are the ones everyone wants to talk to. All I have to do is smile and nod whenever someone decides they should spare a moment for the stormtrooper turned resistance general. Most of my conversations have been about the food or the weather.”

“Republic general,” Poe corrected, “If we can get everyone to agree, anyway. Negotiating with politicians is like herding banthas.”

“It can’t be that bad. You definitely looked like you were having fun with the group you were with last night. Or were you an actor in addition to being a spice runner?”

Poe sighed and sagged into the railing. He lifted tired, but no less alert, eyes to look at him. Finn tried to keep his expression open and neutral and friendly, because that’s what they were, what was happening here. Friends having a casual conversation. Shooting the breeze before their responsibilities called them away. Friends. They’d known each other for two years, the anniversary of the day they’d met was in two weeks. In the grand total of his life, two years was a drop in the bucket. And yet, it felt like everything important in his life had happened in the last two years. Most of all, in that time he felt he’d come to know the man beside him better than most. And he’d come to be known in the same way. He’d never had someone who read him as well as Poe did, never had a friend whose dry humor matched his so well, whose thoughts synced with his. He didn’t know the entirety of Poe’s life story, and he couldn’t help the remarks he made about that, but those were just details.

He knew his digs bothered Poe, especially when he brought up the spice running thing, but he couldn’t leave it alone. Because — he knew there was more to it than he was being told. Sometimes, he wondered why not knowing bothered him so much when it came to Poe. He wasn’t half as bothered about the fact that Rey still wouldn’t talk about whatever had happened between her, the emperor, and Ren. But he’d been unable to pin down what it was about Poe, that could leave him with a giddy smile and a warm feeling in his chest when they spent time together, that could also leave him cold and frustrated when they were apart or arguing.

Maybe it was just a Poe thing.

“More like, I was an actor while I was a spice runner,” Poe said. They were leaning sideways against the railing now, watching each other instead of the waterfall. “Let me tell you, pretending like you’d rather be socializing till the early hours instead of sleeping in your own bed after being on your feet all day. . . Well, that’s what they should give medals out for.”

“Uh huh, don’t think I missed the first part of that. You were _acting_ as a spice runner?”

“Yeah,” Poe said, “listen, I’ll tell you all about it buddy, really I will. I promise. I’ve realized you’re not going to let it go. But. Not here, not out in the open where anyone could overhear.”

Finn tilted his head and considered that, considered him. His face was painfully earnest, one arm propped on the railing casual-like, but belied by the clench of his fist. Poe was nervous, he realized, and the idea was so foreign he didn’t quite know what to do about it. How to go about putting him at ease.

“Deal,” he said finally, deciding moving the conversation along was the best thing he could do, “but last night’s acting didn’t seem so bad. You had plenty of pretty people for company, from what I saw.”

“Pretty, sure, but great conversationalists they were not,” Poe said, and Finn laughed, and Poe’s tired mouth tilted up into a smirk.

“They couldn’t have all been bad,” he said, and he was proud of how light and airy his voice was. It revealed nothing of what he was thinking, of what he was remembering. Of what he’d felt, last night. He’d stumbled on Poe and his group in one of the more private lounges. And it had been like being sucker-punched as soon as he crossed the threshold. The private lounges all had state-of-the-art soundproofing technology, so he hadn’t heard Poe’s distinctive and deep laugh until he was in the room. He’d followed the sound to see Poe, standing surrounded by a crowd of beautiful men and women alike. He’d arrived just in time to watch one of the young women link arms with Poe, he had watched as she stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, her lips close enough to brush his skin. Poe had turned to smile down at her and she had kissed him and Finn had been rooted to the spot. He hadn’t moved for a single heartbeat, waiting for Poe to push her off of him, and when that hadn’t happened he had stumbled from the room.

Rey had been the one to find him, all gentle hands and kind words, and she had been the one to usher him off to bed. She hadn’t asked any questions. But there had been a knowing glint in her eyes, an exasperated tilt to her smile.

And for the life of him, he couldn’t seem to make himself confront Poe as he’d planned to. Poe flirted all the time, but he’d never seen him act on it. Before last night. It hadn’t been fair of him to read into that, but he had. And now he couldn’t make himself say: _Hey, I know we never said it out loud. . . But I always thought we. . . That one day. . . We would. . . You would. . ._

He couldn’t even say it right in his head, he would never be able to say any of it to Poe.

Poe was smothering a yawn. He realized he’d been staring, drinking in the sight of Poe, for too long and he turned back to the waterfall. There was a tremor running through his arms, one he’d been ignoring. A tremor from the effort it was taking to not reach out and fold Poe into his arms. To take his weight. To tell him to rest. He wanted to hold him, and bury his face in his neck, and taste that beautiful mouth. Yeah, maybe he did know why he reacted so strongly to Poe. Why everything mattered more when it came to him.

Doors slid open with a mechanical hiss somewhere behind them and he could hear the low-level murmur coming from the dining room. Breakfast must be wrapping up. He knew without looking the deck was no longer deserted and he waited with bated breath for Poe to be called away or for someone to try to join them. But he wasn’t and no one did.

He glanced sideways to see that Poe had turned to face the waterfall too. Good. That was good, that meant it wouldn’t be immediately apparent who they were. Maybe they could go unnoticed for a while longer.

“Finn, buddy,” Poe murmured, “there is something I oughta tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I, uh, I’m going to be honest. I’m not sure how to explain” he said, his voice dropped a level lower and Finn had to strain to hear it over the roar of the waterfall.

“Poe. Is something the matter?”

“No.” He said, “Maybe. You may be angry with me in a few minutes.”

He turned back to Poe at that and examined his face for clues. Poe thought he’d be angry. He racked his brain, but couldn’t think of what could possibly make him angry enough at Poe for him to be genuinely afraid of it. “Maybe,” he said, “you should just spit it out.”

Poe sighed and reached up to massage the bridge of his nose. His hand was shaking.

“Yeah, okay. Last night, one of the delegates, she, she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Finn was silent.

“You. . . know what I’m getting at, right?”

“Yes Poe, I was raised in military barracks, not a convent,” Finn said, “so, this woman was hitting on you.”

“Yes. Quite uh, strongly.”

He wondered at that, wondered if the woman they were talking about was the same one he’d seen kiss Poe. Had he read that wrong? Poe had been smiling just before the kiss, had that been part of an act? If Poe hadn’t welcomed her advances, if she’d cornered him, and Finn had left the room instead of stepping in. . .

His chest felt hollowed out, empty.

“Eventually, I convinced her that her wiles were better served plying someone else,” Poe said and he was able to breathe again.

“How’d you manage that? Let me guess, you told her she wasn’t your type,” he said and he wished he’d gotten a look at her face last night so he could picture her rejected expression. All he’d seen last night had been her vibrant red hair and a brief glimpse of matching lipstick.

“I wish it had been that easy,” Poe sighed, “but no, that wouldn’t work. Turns out, she’s old friends with Zorri. She knows enough about my. . . taste in partners to know that’s a lie.”

“So what did you tell her? Not that you’re already taken, if she’s friends with Zorri that won’t hold up for long.”

“Yeah. . . That’s the part I really need to tell you. Because. . . there is one person Zorri would believe I was dating, should Kara, that’s her name, by the way, ask her about it—“

“Oh.” Finn turned back to the waterfall. That really only left one person. The last time Zorri had interacted with Poe, that he knew of, had been right at the end of the war. The only people she would have seen him interact with would be him and Rey. She hadn’t paid much attention to Finn, too busy trading loaded looks with Poe. But she’d had an odd fascination with Rey. Zorri had kept an eye on her anytime the two were in the same vicinity.

“Rey. . .” he trailed off, his lips felt strangely numb. His abdomen ached like Poe had punched him. “You told her you were dating Rey.”

“What? No! Force, Finn, no I didn’t tell her that. Of course not, you think I don’t know? I know Rey is still grieving whatever she had with Ren. I would never put her in that position.”

“Okay,” Finn said, when he had the air to speak. That hadn’t been the reason he’d reacted so strongly, but he didn’t see a reason to explain the truth to Poe. Not at this moment. “So _who_ did you say you’re dating?”

Poe rubbed his eyes, stifled another yawn, sighed. “I don’t know if you’re pretending you don’t understand or if the possibility truly hasn’t occurred to you. I’m not sure which is worse.”

He stared at him but Poe just stared back. His brows were arched and expectant. Finn scrambled to figure out what Poe thought should be readily apparent but really fucking wasn’t.

“Poe. . .” he said after a moment of tense silence.

For a long time, Poe just stood there, his gaze fixed on where his hands were wrapped around the rail. Finn couldn’t guess what he was thinking. Couldn’t figure out why this was so hard for Poe to talk about. After a while he slumped over the rail, head hanging low, his face hidden by his curls.

“You, Finn,” he said, “I told her I was dating you.”

“What,” he breathed and Poe was looking at him, his neck twisted at an odd angle, his face still half-obscured.

“Guess it really never occurred to you, huh.”

 _It never occurred to me you’d tell someone else we were dating before telling me,_ he wanted to say. _There is one person Zorri would believe I was dating,_ Poe had said. That person was him. Apparently. Maybe, his unspoken assumption about them _was_ a shared one after all. “That’s not it,” was what he said in the end.

“Really? So what’re you’re saying, is that I might actually have a—“

“A?” He repeated, but Poe had straightened up and gone stiff, his gaze fixed over Finn’s shoulder.

“Force’s sake,” he muttered and Finn knew without looking that the red haired woman, Kara, was approaching them. Her heels were just audible against the wooden deck, and he could feel the weight of her eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. Had she figured out that they weren’t really dating? Was she going to call Poe’s bluff and make a scene in front of the ever-growing group of delegates outside?

“Poe, what do we—“ he began urgently, but Poe grabbed his wrist.

“Forgive me,” he said and sealed his mouth to Finn’s.

Oh. _Oh_.

A number of things registered for him, all at once: his own sharp inhale, the soft mouth pressed against his, the sharp mint taste reaching his tongue, and the sounds of approaching heels coming to an abrupt stop. He kept enough sense about him to notice when the sound started again, moving away this time.

But the kiss didn’t stop.

He’d understood what was happening, he’d understood the kiss was to prove something to Kara and warn her off. A distraction, another part of the bluff. Or, he’d thought that’s what it was. When the need for the kiss stopped, and the kiss didn’t, everything ceased to make sense.

His hand had found its way to the back of Poe’s neck without him deciding to move it. There were warm hands gripping his waist, tucked under his vest and digging through his shirt. He broke off to gasp, his mind scrambling to make sense of what his body was doing because it was responding and he had no say in it, had lost control about five minutes ago.

Of all the ways he’d imagined kissing Poe — standing on a foreign planet surrounded by a faceless mass of dignitaries, who could be watching for all he knew and let them for all he cared — this scenario was not one he’d have thought up in a thousand years.

And then they were kissing again, and he wasn’t sure, but he thought he might have been the one to start it.

His hands slid down Poe’s back, up and under his jacket, both of them inside their jackets now. He tugged Poe impossibly closer, and they were pressed together now, hip to hip. “Fuck,” Poe murmured, and if he had the breath to talk Finn wasn’t doing something right. He bumped their mouths together, nipped his bottom lip, and relished in the small noise of encouragement Poe made in the back of his throat. Finn moved one of his hands to cradle Poe’s jaw, rubbing his thumb over the bristles he found there. They were full-on making out now, out in the open, where anyone might stumble on them.

“Poe,” he whispered as they shifted a little, and then their mouths were together again. Why had they never done this before? Why hadn’t he made their unspoken agreement a spoken one before now? He hadn’t been kissed much in his life, his experiences limited to quick and dirty meetups in the barracks. Kissing hadn’t been on the menu often, back then. And when it was, it hadn’t been like this: intense and tender and utterly intoxicating. Is that what it would always be like? Or was it this good because it was their first? He would have to keep kissing Poe and find out, he wanted to try everything with him and see if it was all better with Poe or if kissing was an outlier —

Poe had pulled back, their foreheads tilted together, his eyes on Finn’s. Their faces were so close he could count the freckles sprinkled on Poe’s nose. “Finn,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” he said, but Poe was looking past him now, his eyes flitting around.

“Coast is clear,” Poe whispered. But he didn’t move away, if anything he moved just a bit closer, their noses brushing. Finn’s hand was still cradling Poe’s jaw. He was waiting, Finn realized, Poe was waiting and letting Finn decide what happened next. If anything happened next.

He tore his eyes away, surveyed the area, and was surprised to see that the deck deserted again. He could have sworn at least a few people had been around when they’d started kissing.

“You didn’t hear Rey shooing everyone away?” Poe’s voice was husky and amused and Finn ignored his words to bend in and kiss him again. It was different this time. Gentler, a bit more hesitant. Less showy, more purposeful. Kissing with deadly intent, was what they were doing now. Beautiful. Poe was beautiful and in his arms and he cradled Poe’s jaw in both his hands, tilted his head just so, and there — they were pressed so close he felt the shiver run down Poe’s body.

“Finn, babe,” Poe pulled away again, his hands catching Finn’s, “stop,” he said, his breath a warm puff against Finn’s face.

“Stop. . . what?” The words didn’t make sense. Finn’s world had stopped making sense and he found he liked it that way. Whatever sense Poe was trying to reintroduce to the situation, he didn’t want to hear.

“Stop,” Poe repeated. There was something odd in his tone. “Not like this.”

“I don’t get it, this is good, why would we stop,” he protested. His hands fell to Poe’s waist, and he tugged them pointedly closer, hips bumping.

“Not like this,” Poe said again, and were those the only two things he could say, he was driving Finn mad. Until — he noticed how resigned Poe’s eyes were, his beautiful mouth twisted into a frown.

“Explain,” he said, when he thought he was braced to handle whatever Poe might say. They were still standing close, no matter what he’d said, Poe had made no attempt to move away.

“This isn’t what I wanted. . .” Poe trailed off and Finn must not have been braced well enough after all because he knew his face would have to be doing something truly alarming to inspire that widened panicked look from Poe. “Finn, no, I just mean that I’d hoped to romance you. I wanted to do this right, not surprise you with a kiss and then let things escalate too fast.”

“Oh.”

“Is there any chance,” Poe said, his voice low and just for him, “that you would say yes to having dinner with me?”

“Poe. If you asked, I’d say yes to pretty much anything.”

Poe’s eyes were still watching him. Finn watched them flick down to his lips. His heart rate picked up, the rumble of thunder in his ears. He wasn’t sure if he closed the distance, or if Poe had, but it didn’t matter. Poe’s mouth was on his again, his hands had released Finn’s from the stranglehold he’d barely been aware of, and they’d found new homes. One rested on the back of his neck, the other a warm press against his lower back. Finn had lost control of his body again, he was certain of that. He was certain he didn’t know how he’d gotten a hand into Poe’s hair, or how he’d curled the other around his elbow. Poe’s tongue was driving all certainty from him. Short-circuiting his brain.

Poe had pulled back and was studying him. “Hey, babe,” he whispered.

“Yeah?” He realized that was the second time Poe had called him that. His mouth caressed every syllable, Poe said the endearment the way a lover would. So similar in theory to ‘buddy’ but so different in reality.

“I’m crazy about you,” he said.

“Me too,” Finn murmured.

“Can we —“

“Yeah, come here,” Finn said and leaned in. This time, it wasn’t for a kiss. This time, they were embracing and Finn tucked his face next to Poe’s, nuzzling and nudging at the spot behind his ear. Poe shivered in his arms and clutched at him.

“Forget dinner,” Finn rasped, “let’s go back to my room. Or your room. I don’t care as long as it has four walls and a door we can lock.”

Poe made a small noise in the back of his throat. It sounded like a denial but Finn hoped he was reading it wrong. There was a hand on the back of his neck again, just resting there. “No,” he said, “no, I want to do this right. Please, let me do this right.”

He leant back, knocking their foreheads together gently. “Poe,” he said, and he couldn’t think of a pet name to use in return, so he let his affection for Poe, his want for him, color his tone, let his voice tremble with it. “Poe, there is no wrong way to do this.”

The hand on the back of his neck reeled him in, and they were kissing again.

“Fuck,” Poe panted, “even if I concede your point. We can’t. We gotta stop.”

“Not this again.”

Poe laughed, “no, not that. Not exactly. But, we can’t escape the talks forever. Rey can only cover for us for so long.”

“She can for five more minutes,” he said, and his brain and his body were communicating and in sync as he leaned in to kiss Poe again. At some point they had twisted around and he had backed Poe against the railing, pinning him there, and their kissing had become almost biting, it was so frantic. Finn wrenched himself away. “Sorry,” he said.

“What for?” Poe was breathing heavily, and he looked a bit disoriented.

“You’re right, about the talks. I wasn’t trying to. . . I didn’t mean to be — pushy. Unlike some other people that I won’t name, I can take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Oh, babe,” Poe tugged him closer, tugged more than just his face closer, their hips were slotted together and, yeah, there was the evidence of just how interested in this Poe was. Poe fluttered kisses down his jaw, across his brow, pressed one to the tip of his nose. “If I really wanted to stop this,” Poe whispered in his ear, “I wouldn’t still be kissing you.”

Poe’s lips found his again, and they were kissing and grinding against each other, and Poe was making small noises in the back of his throat that were possibly the best thing Finn had ever heard. He trailed kisses down Poe’s jaw, caressed his throat, relishing in how the noises got louder. The hand on the back of his neck slid around to brush his face, tilt it up, and he was kissing that delicious, delicious mouth again. “Hey guys,” called Rey’s voice, from behind them. “I can’t stall for much— Oh. _Really_ , guys?”

They tensed. Finn hid his face in Poe’s neck, stifling a hysterical giggle by biting the skin there. Poe hissed and swatted his shoulder.

“We’ll be right there,” Poe managed to say through clenched teeth.

“Try and hurry,” Rey said, “you’re better at keeping them on task than I am and I’d like to finish these talks sometime in, oh, the next year would be nice.”

Poe huffed a laugh and must have signaled something to Rey with his face or his hands, because she moved away without another word spoken.

“Guess we had less than five minutes,” Finn murmured, “shit.” But Poe’s soft laughter had turned into the full-throated, head tilted back kind.

“What’s so funny?” Finn leaned back to properly appreciate the sight of Poe grinning, ear to ear.

“Just, think about it,” Poe said, “politicians are the worst kind of gossips. Right now, Rey is their only source for what’s probably the juiciest thing to happen since these blasted talks started. Poor Rey.”

“Oh,” Finn said, “well, in that case. . . We probably owe her a nice gift or something.” Poe had leant his forehead against Finn’s. The gesture was so intimate, so increasingly familiar, that it made Finn’s chest tight with an emotion he didn’t know how to name. “But, that’s for later,” he said, “for now, we should go rescue her.”

Poe nodded, his nose rubbing and bumping against Finn’s. Finn’s hand brushed the side of his face, and into Poe’s hair. “Dinner tonight?” He whispered.

“Yeah,” Poe said, “I’ll set everything up and send the details to your pad.”

“Good,” Finn said, and he straightened, moving back a step. He smoothed down his vest and generally tried to look like he hadn’t spent the last fifteen minutes rearranging his worldview. “Prepare for one of tonight’s topics to be the story about you being a spice runner.”

“I figured that would be the case. I promised I’ll tell you everything.”

“Good,” he said again. Poe was reclining against the railing, looking rumpled and debauched and beautiful. “We’re doing this the ‘right way’ after all, looks like.”

“Yeah. Disappointed?”

“Nah, this is good too. Dinner’s just dinner, the rest can come after.”

“Just dinner, huh.”

“Yeah,” Finn said, and he jutted his chin out, a bit petulant, and saw the answering smirk lurking in the corner of Poe’s gorgeous mouth. Fifteen minutes ago, a day ago, a year ago, he hadn’t let himself notice how gorgeous of a mouth it was. Now, he could hardly stop noticing.

“Just dinner,” Poe repeated, “if that’s the case, we could skip it. But then you’ll skip hearing the spice runner story. That’s a topic that can only be discussed with delicious food and strong drinks.”

Finn laughed and backed up another step, it was harder than it should have been, “alright, alright. Dinner sounds good. I’m looking forward to it, I swear.”

“Prepare to get swept off your feet, babe.”

Poe finally straightened up and stepped away from the rail, and by unspoken agreement, they didn’t touch again. Because if they touched again, they both knew they wouldn’t stop.

He stood aside to let Poe pass him and lead the way towards the building. _I’m crazy about you_ , Poe had said. He could still feel that revelation knocking about in his chest, could still feel lingering tinges of incredulous relief. He should be thinking serious thoughts, he should be trying to order his thoughts so that he could be useful at the talks. Instead, his mind was replaying the last few minutes, over and over, in vivid detail.

 _Babe_ , Poe had called him. The thing about that was, now, being called _buddy_ or even by his name, seemed like a downgrade. Less intimate than the softly reverent _babe_.

He trailed in Poe’s wake, concentrating firmly on thinking about the trade routes being negotiated today — anything but the sun-kissed warmth of Poe’s skin, the softness of his mouth, the way his hands had carefully held him. Anything but the way everything had ceased to make sense and then made the best kind of sense. Possibly, he owed Kara a fruit basket for setting things in motion.

On the second floor, Poe stopped just in front of a door.

“Ready for this?”

“Not at all,” Finn said and sighed.

“Just remember, dinner later.”

“Right. Dinner.”

Poe hesitated, like he wanted to say something else or touch Finn, before thinking better of it.

“Come on,” Finn said, “the sooner we go in, the sooner we can escape.”

He was rewarded with the low rich thrum of Poe’s laugh. “When you’re right,” he said, “you’re right.”

Poe placed his hand on the scanner, the door opened, and they stepped through.

* * *

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?
> 
> I’m leaving this as a one-shot, for now, otherwise, it would still be gathering dust on my laptop.


End file.
